Between the Dusty Pages
by Hornswaggler
Summary: A strange book finds its way into the hands of the Varden. To most, it seems just an interesting read, but something sinister seems to rustle between the pages. When a new evil slips into the land, will this book be the only solution?
1. The Finding

I claim no ownership to anything in this story. Except the plot. That's mine.

To clear up confusion ahead of time:

"This is speaking. Of course."

_This is thoughts._

_"This is Saphira or the like speaking."_

First chapter is solely in Alagaësia, and is based after Brisngr. Please pardon my...Lack of writing skills. D: Any R&R will be appreciated!

**Part one: The Finding**

The border was in view, a simple sign on the barren road, halfway hidden amongst the cloud of dust that rose with the wind. Surda; it was a tiny place, a small blemish on the Empire, and yet it still stood strong. A lone horse stood out on the plain, galloping hooves kicking up a small cloud of dust, and it's head bent low in an attempt to gain speed. The stallion's rider, a large, burly man sat hunched in the saddle, his hood pulled over his eyes. The man's pack was stuffed with a few supplies and letters, but his head carried a huge load of information, gathered during his short time wandering the remote villages. It was rather surprising the amount of gossip that was contained in small towns. With a grunt, Jeod adjusted his reins, peering to each side nervously. There was no law against him traveling in the Empire…but he did happen to have a decent bounty on his head, which made things a bit difficult. Once he crossed the border, he would be safe. Or, at least, safer than he was now. So intent he was on the ride, the man barely registered the stranger in the road until his horse came to a skidding halt, grunting loudly with his ears lain back. Nearly thrown, Jeod leaned forward to rub the spooked animal on its neck.

"Steady Milan, steady," he murmured softly, then straightened, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, he got a firmer grasp on the reins, edging Milan forward a few steps. "Hail yourself!" he commanded sharply, peering into the bright sunlight in an attempt to see the stranger's face. "Who are you, and what's your purpose?" A strangled wheezing sound came from within the hood, what Jeod could only imagine was supposed to be a laugh. The traveler seemed to be quite old, judging by his posture and a wisp of white hair that blew in the wind.

"What does it matter who _I_ am, my dear friend?" he rasped, putting both hands into the pockets of his cloak. "What really matters is to know who _you _are." With another wheezy chuckle, he took a step forward, causing Milan to lay his ears back once more. With hawk-like eyes glinting in the shadows, the man peered intently at the saddlebags. "I see you've been busy on your little spying job, eh?" With a startled grunt, Jeod had his broadsword out in an instant, the tip inches from the old man's chest. The blade, glinting in the noon-day sun, was held nearly stock still, every nerve in the scholars body prepared to drive it though a chest. Still, his voice held steady.

"I haven't seen the likes of you in Surda, so you cannot claim any 'friendship' just yet," he snarled, one hand still gripping his steed's reins. "Now I ask you again; what's your purpose?" Not appearing the least bit worried about the fact that he seemed seconds away from being impaled, the stranger simply shook his head, almost sorrowfully.

"Ah, what times are these that suspicion runs though every thought?" he seemed to mutter to himself. "Why Jeod, even you are hostile and untrusting." An eerie pause seemed to hang over the dead landscape, even leaving Milan still and silent.

"Who are you?" Jeod finally asked, though it was more of a question than a demand now. Quickly taking back his stiff manner, however, he scowled. "You may know of my name, but many do at this time. How do you plan on proving yourself worthy of life?" With a chuckle, the old man took his eyes away for a moment, rummaging in a bag that hung by his waist. With a noise of satisfaction, he pulled out a tightly wrapped parcel, the twine around it crossing over itself a few times before ending in a small knot.

"I think this should be of some interest to Nasuada," he said quietly, holding the package out. With a puzzled glare, Jeod peered at it for a moment. Against his better judgment, he lowered the blade slightly and reached forward to grab the bundle, almost expecting it to be filled with snakes. Removing his gaze from the stranger, he lay the broadsword across one knee carefully and took to inspecting the package. Feeling the edges gingerly, the man looked up once more.

"It's a book…" Cutting off, Jeod whipped around, his eyes wide as he found the road in front of him deserted. With a muttered curse, he peered through the harsh sunlight, expecting to see the ragged form running off in some direction or the other, but found only sand. No normal person would be able to hide themselves in this landscape, though he knew Eragon would have no trouble with it. With a slight shiver, he spurred Milan forward once more, intending to get to Surda before the sun set. If that…man was one of the king's magicians, he could have a whole patrol on him in minutes. Though if he were a traitor to the Empire…the book could prove to be some worth. Glancing down at the scruffy parcel, Jeod sniffed. A few spell casters could look it over before it went anywhere near Nasuada…

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**I would adore any reviews! If you flame, please tell why. I always need to improve…Sorry this one's so short. D:**


	2. The Attempts

Second chapter, woot! 8D Thanks much to everyone for my very first reviews, and all those who put me on alert! All the chapters may be short and far between, but I'm working on it! ^^ Thanks for the patience! As stated earlier:

I claim no ownership to anything in this story. Except the plot. That's mine.

Enjoy!

**Part Two: The Attempts**

"Well sir, it appears to be…just a book."

Jeod let out a disgruntled sigh, running one hand over his face. That was the fifth time he had heard those words, yet he still couldn't take it in fully. "You're sure?" the man said, as he had so many times that day. "You've checked for everything? Poisons, scrying methods…any magic at all?" The magician nodded, looking worried as if he assumed he had done something wrong. With another sigh, Jeod picked the tattered book up once more and pressed a few coins into the other man's hand. "Thank you. The Varden's lucky to have your service." The magician bowed slightly before backing out of the tent, allowing a stream of light to drift in. There was a puff of dust that flew in with the breeze before the flap fluttered shut once more. The scholar began pacing between a small writing desk set in one corner and his bed on the other wall. Staring at the faded book intently, he ran one finger over the smooth title, as if willing it to share some secret with him. The writing was sharp and blocked, looking nothing like a scribe's work. What on Earth could have made something so…precise? He had never before seen a book bound like this. It was so much harder than any cover he had seen, and the man had seen many books in his time. With a heavy sigh, Jeod sat himself down on the small bed, eyes still glued to the book. _Inkheart…_The script may be strange, but it was still legible.

Tapping his finger on the cover, where an intricate painting of a small village jumped out at him, he ran a mental check list of all the adapt magicians in camp. He had called for every one of them…Except Eragon. He still hesitated before requesting a meeting with him, not only because it was so hard to see the Rider these days, but also because Jeod felt slightly…intimidated by him. The boy looked more elf than human now, even his voice was different, and yet he still acted just like the odd young kid that came to his old house so long ago. Now that he knew of his origins, something that Jeod himself had only learned of recently, Eragon seemed much more at ease, even when discussing his brother--_Half brother, _he quickly corrected himself. The Rider had insisted, (And it was a very convincing statement with Saphira glaring at them all from behind him.) that Murtagh was to only be referred to as his half brother, if even that. Shaking his head, Jeod brought himself back to the problem at hand. Making up his mind quickly, he stood, tucking the book into it's bag, then stepping out into the sun, squinting at the sudden brightness. The Varden's camp was busy, even more so than usual, as they attempted to set off once more. Shading his eyes, Jeod searched the crowd for someone who wasn't too busy to make a side trip. It wasn't exactly easy; everyone seemed to have a set destination, carrying bags, tents and loaded horses past him. Finally, his eyes rested on a young boy with very dark skin, almost certainly a citizen of Surda. Catching his attention, the man waved him over, already working on the message he was going to have delivered. Most of the boys knew not to spread messages around, even the simplest ones, but you could never be too careful in times like these. Jeod chuckled softly, realizing how absurd that sounded, especially from him, considering all the battles that he and Brom had charged into without a second thought. A small cough brought him back to the present, and he found the boy standing in front of him, eyes wide and curious.

"You were wantin' to be seein' me?" he asked quietly, clasping his hands behind his back in an attempt to appear a bit older. With a smile, Jeod nodded, kneeling to look the boy in the eye.

"I was. What's your name, son?"

"Jaden…Sir." The boy quickly amended his slip, obviously not accustomed to using common courtesy.

"Good, good…" Jeod murmured, half to himself. "Now, I assume you're looking to become a solider, eh Jaden?" The boy nodded in the affirmative.

"Yessir', my father's teachin' me the sword." The man smiled, clasping Jarden's shoulder. It was a rare, yet cheerful finding, having a soldiers' boy his age who still had a father.

"I'm sure you'll be a great addition to Nasuada's army. However, I hope it won't demean you too much to deliver a message for me?" Jaden shook his head fervently, his already ruffled black hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it away impatiently before continuing.

"No, 'course not…Sir," he assured the scholar. "If what all them says is true, you'd be Master Jeod, right? Yer pretty famous around here, sir, if ya don't mind me sayin'." Jeod chuckled, glancing around at the milling crowd.

"These days, I'm not so sure that's a good thing," he commented. "However, it makes it a bit easier. Considering you know of me, I'm sure you know of Eragon, correct?" The boy had to restrain himself to keep from laughing, though a large grin replaced his 'serious' look.

"Master Jeod, I don't reckon there's nobody alive who don't know of Shadeslayer. They're sayin' he and Saphira could just squash Galbatroix, no need for all this magic type o' stuff. I haven't seen him, actually, but it's kinda hard not to see Saphira, if ya know what I mean."

"They are a bit formidable, eh?" Jeod chuckled, peering over the tops of the tents in a quick attempt to spot the dragon. "More to the point…" His face changed instantly, to one quite serious. "Look, Jaden…can you keep secrets?"

Eragon's presence was announced a few moments before he actually arrived. The heavy concussions of the air sent a cloud of dust rolling into Jeod's tent for what must have been the tenth time that day. This time, however, it was fairly welcome. He stood from his former seat on the small chair, the book clasped under one arm. Pulling the tent's flap aside, he smiled faintly at the sight of dozens of people scampering out of the way as a dark shadow fell across the clearing. Saphira's scales sent many glittering points of light dancing across the canvas of the multiple tents, and Jeod winced as one caught him in the eye. It was with a huge flurry of dust that the dragon finally set down, carefully tucking her expansive wings to her side. She paused, long neck extended to peer over the tops of the tents, before bending down to peer at Jeod carefully. He felt a slight brush of a conscious on his mind, though whether it was Saphira or her rider, he couldn't' tell. They had become so close, each mind seemed intertwined with the other. Piercing blue eyes finally left his face, turning to look at the small figure on her back. The scholar smiled, taking this as evidence that he had passed the test…whatever it may have been. He watched as Eragon slid from the saddle with practiced ease, pushing off from the right wing joint. Jeod felt himself inhale sharply, expression switching to shock as the boy soared through the dusty air. His smile returned, however, as the Rider landed with all the grace of an elf, pausing only for a moment before straightening. Pushing his hair quickly from his face, Eragon strode forward to meet the man, one hand running down the length of Saphira's neck.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Jeod said quickly, leading the way back into his tent. "I'm sure there are more pressing matters than the ramblings of an old man, but…" The boy cut him off as they ducked into the shade of the canvas.

"Like I'd ever be too busy to see an old friend." He paused, and then chuckled. "Well, alright, maybe in certain circumstances…"

"Unfortunately, this is a bit more serious than just a visit," the man said quietly, turning as he reached the far side of the tent. Glancing back to the entrance, he added, "Saphira can listen, considering there's nothing I can hide from her anyway." He assumed Eragon conveyed the message, as the dragon's head slipped carefully through the door a moment later. Jeod motioned to the chair, beginning to pace again as the boy sat down.

"What's this about then, Jeod?" the Rider asked, leaning forward slightly. The man took a breath before he began.

"It was after my mission in the Empire…"

Eragon's eyes grew steadily wider as the short story progressed, and Saphira allowed a low growl to rumble deep in her throat. "Barzûl…" he murmured quietly, once Jeod had finished. Silence fell over the tent, and the boy's eyes flicked back and forth between the book that lay on the table and Saphira. Assuming the two were discussing the situation, the man remained silent. After a moment, Eragon nodded and then turned back to Jeod.

"Considering you haven't died yet, I think it's safe to assume that if there are any effects, they don't come into play immediately," he commented, making some attempts at lightening the mood a bit. When it was obvious that this was pretty much a failure, the Rider grew serious again. "I take it you want us to check the thing over?" Jeod nodded, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands.

"I've had nearly every person who deals with magic in here so far…none of them have found a thing. With your experience, though, maybe you and Saphira could pick up some form of trickery no one else could." Eragon allowed a smile, accepting the hard book as it was held out to him.

"I'm going to assume that's a compliment," he chuckled, turning his gaze to the hard, intricately painted cover. "What could have made this?" he muttered, tapping one finger on it. "Did I miss some breakthrough in printing while we were gone?" Jeod shook his head with a slight smile.

"No…that's what's getting to me. Nothing in Alagaesia could have done this. It's too precise, far too precise."

"Which just makes it all the stranger," Eragon said quietly. "Alright, we'll look it over. You can work on something else for now if you want; this may take a little while." The man chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ah, and miss a chance to see a Rider at work? I have nothing else to occupy me, anyway." With a nod, Eragon turned his chair slightly to allow Saphira to see the book as well. Lowering her muzzle, the dragon touched its cover lightly with the tip of her nose, then drew back with a snort, nostrils flaring. "Did she find something?" Jeod asked quickly, half rising. He was taken aback to see the boy laughing, not bothering with any attempt to stifle it.

"No…but she says it smells like sweaty armor and stale bread. Like your saddle bag, apparently."

The scholar opened his mouth to retort, then quickly thought better of it. As attention was returned to the book, he sat back down on the small bed, resting his chin on one hand as he watched.

The process wasn't exactly fast. Spells were muttered, then as much as five minutes could pass before they continued onto the next one. It wasn't a boring event to watch, by far, but nothing seemed to come of it. Jeod found his attention waning and took to studying the side of the tent for a while, eyes fairly unfocused. He was just beginning to fall into a doze when Eragon's voice jolted him out of the daze.

"Jeod…have you actually looked at this?"

The man turned, puzzled, to see Eragon bent over the book…which was now open.

"Well…I've looked it over, but never actually opened it…if there was some curse…"

"No, it seems to be clean," the Rider interrupted. "But the…story, I guess you would call it…it's interesting." Jeod frowned, standing and crossing the tent in a few strides. Eragon silently handed him the book, open to what he guessed was one of the first pages. Not much of it actually sunk in, though he picked up a few odd names…or he assumed they were names. Dustfinger, Capicorn, Basta…

Tearing his gaze from the text, Jeod frowned. He looked up at Eragon questioningly. The boy simply shrugged. "It doesn't seem to be in any style I'm familiar with," he commented. "But neither of us could find any sort of magic attached…It just seems like some weird book."

"The man said Nasuada might be interested…" Staring at the cover intently, Jeod debated with himself for a moment. Nothing seemed to be wrong with it, and if it wasn't a trap from the Empire, could it really be that bad to at least show the Varden's leader? With a resigned sigh, he stood, putting the book under one arm. "If you're sure there's no evident spells, we'll just have to hope for the best. Even if it's nothing crucial to victory, it seems like it could be an interesting read, at the least." He allowed a small smile. "I'd try to pay you, but I know for a fact you would refuse…So I'll simply offer my thanks. I don't think there's any pressing need for you both to accompany me, other than your own boredom…which I'm sure comes seldom these days." Eragon grinned, standing as well.

"Unfortunately, that's correct…Nasuada actually has us set for a short scouting trip once twilight comes. Besides, it's gotten to difficult to try and fit Saphira in between the tents. Just let us know if any more strange books show up, eh?" He offered his hand, which Jeod shook firmly.

"In an instant. Look after yourself, alright? From what I've seen, you got your father's enthusiasm for trouble." The Rider chuckled.

"Ah, I have Saphira watching my back. _You're_ the one who needs to be careful." Jeod stepped out into the fading sunlight, glancing up at Saphira as she stretched her neck to glance over the tents. Eragon scrambled up to the dragon's back, far less graceful when he was ascending. Quickly binding the straps around his legs, the boy gave one last wave before Saphira extended her wings, careful to avoid anything that may be knocked over. Another gust of wind buffeted the clearing as she took off, using a few strokes to climb above the camp, soaring off towards the distant mountains. Eragon was still so much like that odd young kid that had come into his old house so long ago…but he was a lot more, as well. Shaking his head at the realization of how stupid that sounded, the man began striding through the canvas tents, the high flying flag of the Varden leading him toward the expansive quarters of their leader. If Eragon said the book was clean, that was good enough evidence for him. He just needed to hand it over to Nasuada, and it wouldn't be his problem anymore…

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**HAHA I finished it. =3 And hey, I noticed this after I updated; The second chapter is up...literally a year from when I put the first one up! XDD Is that sad, or what? Happy anniversary, story! -fwee-**

**Alright, tell me what you think! I'm happy that this one was longer than the first...but not too happy with how Eragon turned out. This is the main reason I try and stay away from main characters; they have a set personality, there is absolutely no wiggle room. x3 If I completely butchered the kid, let me know where and how and such!!**

**Also, I need to know which characters from Inkheart shall be coming in. =3 Dustfinger and Capicorn are a must, but if there are any requests, let me know on your reviews!**


	3. The Relinquishing

Wow, chapter 3! Kinda hard to believe I posted the first chapter more than a year ago, and started it even before then. Anyway, I want to apologize in advance for any butchering of characters that may occur. This is why I try to stay away from the kind of main characters who have set personalities…People tend to be picky about them, (I know I am!) so let me know!

**Part 3: The Relinquishing **

To say Nasuada's tent was well guarded would be an understatement. The Nighthawks formed a perimeter around the entire structure, and it was well known that eight of the best trained were always positioned around the leader herself. Multiple eyes stared outwards, glaring suspiciously at anyone that passed by. The Urgals towered over all of the other three races, and the few Kull scattered among the ranks exceeded them by at least three feet. Not many carried very impressive weapons, but it was said that they rarely needed them. It was simply for show that the Kull held thick clubs, and they had refused to don any armor.

The humans, however, were all heavily armored , carrying thick broadswords, spears, and, for a small number, bows. They were the most plentiful out of the four groups. Troops from the Varden and Orrin's army had been pulled from normal duty to keep watch. Though they were far surpassed in skill by the majority of the others, their numbers and determination proved to be a large factor. It was a known fact, too, that a select few were adept magicians. Those that could were trained to join strength with all of the other spell casters at a moment's notice; with such strength, they could mange fairly impressive spells.

The small hulking forms of the dwarves were by far less intimidating from a distance, but once one approached enough to look the knurlan in the face, their expressions alone would frighten the average soldier. The large battle axes and stone picks they clutched in their fists glinted in the overhead sun sending flashes of light dancing across the canvas tents as their wielders shifted from one foot to the next.

The select few elves that stood spread out among the rest stood tall and proud, as usual. The majority of them held swords; this was a far greater feat than for the humans, as the eleven swords were famous for their durability and lightweight metal. For most, the best thing to do when meeting an elf in a dual while they wielded their sword was to simply turn and run the other direction. Even for their small numbers, they were probably the forces most feared. The elves were known spell casters, able to kill most any foe without exerting more effort than it took to sprint a few yards. Some were able to slip over the outer thoughts of the passerby, distinguishing friends from foes. Though stronger minds kept the less adept out, the combined force of every elf present could break through most human, dwarf, or Urgal walls.

The mixed guard seemed to have served it's purpose after a few months; though the Urgals were still not fully trusted, disputes between them and the humans or dwarves were now rare. It was a grudging relationship, true, but the common enemy had pushed them together, whether they wished it or not. The elves were to be fully included in the alliance, of course, but as only a few of them had appeared so far, not many could be used on a regular basis.

Jeod blinked as many sets of eyes turned on him, and though some recognized the man, the majority were still suspicious. The book clutched in one hand, he approached the entrance to the tent while trying to keep his expression blank. The ranks of guards moved closer together at the tent flap and Jeod chose a rather young soldier to address, as he was the only one among the group that was at eye-level.

"I need to see Nasuada," he stated bluntly, folding his hands behind his back. Judging by the many glances the soldier was making to the rest of the group, he guessed this was a newer guard, or perhaps simply on his first shift at the entrance. Nevertheless, the young man was confident enough, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.

"Who're you?" This was the question that always got on everyone's nerves. It wasn't like some intruder would say exactly who they were and hope to still be admitted. All the same, it seemed to be protocol, and people had learned to live with it.

"My name's Jeod," the man replied, dipping his head slightly. "I need to see Nasuada." It was a simple request, really. Perhaps if he repeated it enough, the boy would let him through faster. He had been trained to be stubborn, however, and the statement was met with a slight sneer.

"Yeah? Well I'm sure Galbatorix needs to see her too," the soldier pointed out. "Doesn't mean I'll let ya through." He ignored the glances from the rest of the guard, even one poorly hid snarl from the towering Kull. It was obvious he was new; it was lesson taught to all the troops, often by force, that respect was required no matter who they were addressing. Jeod sighed, taking a moment to look around the camp. No one was around to vouch for him. There had to be some way to get in without it taking ages…The man smirked slightly as the idea came.

"Look, this is urgent business I'm on," he stated, challenging the soldier's unwavering gaze. "Are you going to let me in or not?"

"Not without proper clearance I'm not," the boy retorted, tapping his sword's hilt impatiently. Jeod snorted, then half turned away, throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

"Fine! Fine then, I guess you win. Even if Lady Nasuada is the most protected person in this camp, even if she has Elva by her side every second of the day, I guess I'm too much of a threat." He turned back, jabbing the guard in the chest with one finger as he continued. "You just keep this in mind; when everything starts going wrong because I couldn't get through, I'll be sure to let her know that it was _you _that denied me entrance. _You _were the one too stubborn to let me in. An unarmed man, one who hardly knows a thing about battle, and I'm too dangerous to gain admittance." He couldn't repress a grin at the look on the boy's face. "I hope you enjoyed this job, kid," The scholar finished with his grand finale. "You sure won't have it much longer."

The look of shock was obvious on the young man's face as he paled considerably. The rest of the guard, excluding the elf, who's face rarely shifted, were now smirking slightly, simply watching to see how the new recruit would handle the situation. A quick scan of Jeod's mind, which he had allowed in an instant, proved him to be trustworthy. Now it was a simple matter of entertainment for a minute or two that kept the elf from speaking up.

"Well…well alright," the soldier stammered, glancing to each side in search of some help. "If it's really that crucial…" He spotted a rather stern look from the dwarf standing nearby and quickly added "But you'll need an escort, sir. Just to be careful, sure ya understand." Jeod rolled his eyes slightly, but a slight smile now replaced the previous exasperated look.

"Of course." Jeod nodded briefly, shifting the book in his arms to a more comfortable position. "Didn't really expect anything less." With a rather challenging look, he raised an eyebrow at the guard. "Will you be the one taking me, then?" The young man blinked, then began stammering, obviously terrified at the thought of escorting the man that had just threatened to have him demoted. After a moment the tall elf stepped forward, laying one hand on the soldier's shoulder to silence him.

"Just stay here, I'll take him," he said quietly. "Jeod doesn't have time to stand around while you gibber for hours." He stepped toward the scholar, ignoring the sputtering indignation as the guard realized his companion had known who his oppressor was the entire time. "If you would, sir?" the elf invited politely, gesturing toward the tent's entrance. Nodding, Jeod stepped forward, pausing a moment to give the poor boy a quick smile.

"Have a nice day now, alright?" Without waiting for any sort of response, he pushed the flap open and slipped in, reveling in the sudden drop in temperature as he stepped into the shade. Glancing toward his 'escort' as they started off toward Nasuada's main room, he grinned. "It seems I have disrupted the delicate internal balance of the entrance guard," he commented, gesturing to the front of the tent. "I'm hoping I didn't cause any real trouble for the boy." The elf shook his head, arms folded behind his back.

"It's difficult to upset Arelas, really. I'm surprised you got as far as you did. He's a good soldier, he just hasn't gotten used to the main guard post yet. There wasn't much opportunity to talk at his previous position. Now that he has some actual authority, it tends to go to his head." The elf glanced behind them as if checking to be sure they weren't being spied on before adding "Most of us ignore him the majority of the time. The boy just needs to learn to keep his head on his shoulders where it belongs." Jeod nodded, his stride slowing as they came upon the next door, this one also surrounded by guards. The elf stepped forward, twisting one hand over his chest in an odd gesture that the man guessed was either a custom or password, then muttered a quick string of words in elvish too quiet for the scholar to catch. The elf at the door nodded quickly, turning and slipping through the entrance while the rest of the guard quickly shifted together to cover the gap. "Damieth is alerting her Lady to your request," Jeod's companion explained. "She's currently speaking to one of the generals, so it will be a few minutes."

"Of course," he consented, casting a quick glance over the rest of the stationed guard. "Might I be so intrusive as to ask your name?" The elf glanced at him, his expression almost suspicious before he shrugged.

"Fallaswaeth," he stated with a slight nod. "Unless your thoughts deceived me, which I think would take more power than you have, no offense, you're the man known as Jeod, correct? Your name is fairly well known among the elves. The feats you and Brom accomplished are stuff of legends." With a grin, the man nodded.

"It seems I'm well known," he stated. "Though honestly, it was Brom that did most of the planning and brilliant brain work. He brought me along for the fighting. I'm not even sure why, that man was amazing with a sword and magic…Losing him was a huge blow to our cause." Fallaswaeth sighed, bowing his head for a moment.

"Indeed it was…we grieved at the news, and though Eragon already rid the world of the vermin that murdered him, we are intent on avenging the real…" He paused as if searching for a suitable word. "desecrator behind his death." At Jeod's questioning glance, he added "Galbatroix will pay for the misery he has caused. Shadeslayer will see to it, and we will help in any way possible." The conversation was cut off as Damieth emerged once more, motioning the two to enter. Nodding to the Nighthawks as he passed them, Jeod ducked into the main room of the expansive tent, taking a moment to glance around. It was quite large, bigger than most of the soldier's entire living quarters. A decent sized chair sat at the very back of the room, the Varden's leader seated in it. Her gaze was rather pensive as she stared up at the canvas ceiling and it was only when the two bowed that Nasuada turned her attention to them. She looked weary, yet her eyes were still quite sharp as she looked them over.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the woman greeted, shifting in her chair to view them better. "I'm hoping this isn't some legal case between you two. I wouldn't expect anything of the sort from one of my own guard…or you, for that matter, Jeod."

"No, m'lady," Fallaswaeth assured her. "I was simply sent to escort him. Not that I think it is gravely needed, but for security reasons, I'm sure you understand." She nodded, motioning for Jeod to proceed.

"Whatever you need to say can be trusted with the Nighthawks, I assure you," she stated, gesturing to the guard carefully positioned around her. "They've all sworn every oath thought up and Eragon added a few after that. Not one will turn against us." The scholar chuckled slightly, stepping forward.

"It's not exactly a matter of grave secrecy, madam," he told her. "It just a book I was given…" The man paused, wondering whether or not to reveal the odd manner in which he had received it before deciding against the notion. It would only worry everyone present, and Eragon had said it was clean of all spells and poisons. "I was told it might be of some interest to you. Nothing more than a decent way to take some time to relax, I would think." He handed the hard-covered book over to her as she reached for it, rather amused by the befuddled look that crossed the young woman's face.

"This is a book?" Nasuada inquired, flipping through the pages quickly. "Well, yes, obviously it is…but what could have made something like this?" Jeod shrugged, remembering himself asking the very same question multiple times.

"I'm not sure, my Lady. It's nothing like I've ever seen. There's nothing wrong with it, however. I thought you might like to look it over. If you like, I know of one man in camp who can read aloud, I'm sure he would be happy to tell you whatever story lies within the book. His voice is excellent for such things." There was a slight pause as she turned the book over in her hands, eyes scanning every inch of it.

"I suppose it may be a good idea to rest my mind a while," she consented, a small smile appearing on her face. "I've been swamped with everything possible recently. What's this man's name, then?"

"Saelan, m'lady," Jeod told her. "If you'd like, I can go and find him, I know where he stays." Nasuada nodded, folding her hands over the book in her lap.

"I would appreciate it. Take Fallaswaeth with you, he can assure you and Saelan get past the entrance guard without an hour of interrogation." The man bowed slightly, taking a step back.

"I'll do that. It shouldn't take long. He'll be delighted for the opportunity. Traveling with an army doesn't a man much chance to read. I wouldn't suggest trying to give him any pay, however. Saelan takes too much pride in his voice to sell it." The Varden's leader smiled, nodding.

"I'll keep that in mind. Go, then. I need attend to a few rather pressing matters before considering a break. They should be completed by the time you return." Dipping his head respectfully, Jeod turned and slipped through the gap in the tent's fabric, Fallaswaeth coming out a moment after him. The absence of the book in his hands felt like a weight had been taken away, and the man was more relaxed than he had been since beginning his mission in the Empire. All that was left was to bring Saelan to Nasuada and he would be done with the issue.

As they came into the afternoon sunlight, he paused to glance toward the mountains that loomed in the distance, their peaks lost in clouds. A single black bird was circling a few miles away from the encampment. Jeod blinked at it, a sudden sense of dread sinking into him. He quickly shook it off; scavenger birds were always thought to be bad omens…but what harm could come of reading a book? Surely it was paranoia. At a questioning glance from his companion, the man set off across camp, Fallaswaeth close behind him, an ever-present and intimidating shadow. The trip wouldn't take as long as usual with the elf. Everyone automatically moved out of their way as they passed. He could be back in time to get a decent meal before retiring. All of this fuss for just a book…it really was nonsense.

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**Not my best chapter, rather short and almost pointless…the next one will be better, I promise! It's titled The Eradication. An odd name that I thought up after about two days of trying to figure it out. x3 Many exciting things shall happen and be fun to write about, and one event that I really think no one will expect. Be in suspense! I'll try my best to get it up soon!**

**One small temporary comment: One of my friends is looking over the three chapters and nitpicking them for grammar, sentence fluency, the like. =3 Once she's done I'll do a total edit of all of the stuff. Most of it's minor like comma changes and such. It's not too crucial, but if you want to read it with all the stuff fixed, it should be within a week or two! =3 This message will be replaced by one saying that it's fixed, so keep an eye out for it.**

**The credit for the names Arelas and Fallaswaeth go to my best friend and writing partner, Liz. She's epic like that. The giant event in the next chapter was also thought up by her in the middle of the night. I'll giver her proper credit there too. Respect her, she's awesome!**

**Anyway, thank you to all my lovely fans! Give me critiques! Grammar mistakes, bad wording, etc. Some of you are most excellent at that, and I thank you many times for it! Until the next chapter then! -salute-**


	4. The Eradication

Would you look at this, chapter 4! Hard to believe, eh? Have I kept you in suspense? Hopefully, that was my intention. ^^ This should be an interesting chapter…fun to write, and hopefully fun to read! Hope you like it! ~~~ Normal disclaimer :: Characters that are not owned by me are not owned by me. =3 The characters that are owned by me are mine. Kthnxbai.

**Part Four: The Eradication **

Saelan wasn't the most impressive figure in the camp; his clothes were all somewhat tattered, his hair frizzy and tangled and he was missing at least one tooth. It wasn't his outward appearance that he was proud of, however, for good reason. The man was known simply for his voice. Despite the rough outward appearance, he could make any story he told seem to leap out of the air. The rare times he was given a book, having been taught to read by an old villager so many years ago, many say that things came right out of the pages. They would assure that it was in the literal sense; no one believed any tales of it, of course. That didn't hinder Saelan's popularity though. If anything important needed to be read, he was the first one in Surda to be called on. For being so accustomed to it, however, the man now looked rather nervous as he was led to Nasuada's tent with Jeod and Fallaswaeth on either side of him like some sort of guard. One hand was constantly going to push his hair back, a persistent habit he had picked up when stressed.

"What did you say I was to be reading then, Jeod?" Saelan asked quietly, his blue eyes wide as they turned to the man beside him.

"It's nothing of grave importance," Jeod assured him, glancing to the side at Fallaswaeth. The elf, as usual, had a rather expressionless face, scanning the area constantly as they passed. "We ah…discovered a book recently, and as you are the best reader in Surda, Lady Nasuada requested you."

"That I understand," the ragged man muttered. "It's just curious that this book would have her so eager to hear it. What did you say it was called?" Jeod paused, attempting to recall the blocked script on the cover.

"Inkheart, if I remember correctly." Both men turned with some surprise as Fallaswaeth spoke, his eyes still locked straight ahead. At their baffled looks, the elf smirked slightly. "I saw it underneath your arm, Jeod. You weren't exactly hiding it." Saelan snorted, arms crossing tightly across his chest.

"Nothing I've ever heard of, and that makes it all the stranger. I take it neither of you recognize the title?" Both of his companions shook their heads. Jeod frowned slightly now. He hadn't been too concerned about how strange the book was. As long as it wasn't cursed or anything similar, it hadn't mattered where it came from. Now, however…he was beginning to see Saelan's point. What kind of book was it? They hadn't even told him about the cover being so hard or all of the writing so precise. Despite Eragon's assurance that there was nothing amiss with it, the book was beginning to seem slightly sinister, as if something was hiding between the pages.

"It won't be anything you're used to," he assured Saelan. "But the writing is readable…or at least, Eragon and I were both able to read it without any trouble." What was it then, that made it so suspicious? There was nothing wrong with the book itself, nothing hidden in the thin paper…Perhaps it was the circumstances by which he had received it that most perplexed the man. Who was the old stranger that had given it to him? He seemed far too clever for his own good, and the fact that knew who Jeod was wasn't exactly something he was comfortable with. It was as if he had been waiting for someone to give the book to, anyone that passed by…so how could he know him?

The scholar was jolted out of his thoughts as they suddenly slowed at the entrance of the tent. Arelas blanched slightly at the sight of Jeod, stepping aside quickly to allow them through. Fallaswaeth gave a nod to the young soldier, leading the other two down into the cool depths of the tent. Not for the first time, Jeod realized just how strangely expansive Nasuada's living quarters were. He had never seen any large cases to carry it in, so he supposed the scarlet dwelling was packed - and assembled - by magic. It would make sense, considering it was nearly always the first tent to be raised when they stopped to set up camp.

"We've brought him, ma'am." The voice of the elf brought Jeod back to the present once again and he winced slightly at his utter lack of focus. Saelan stepped forward, bowing low as he approached.

"It's an honor, milady," he greeted. Nasuada looked a bit surprised at the man's voice, but she smiled.

"From what I've heard about you, Saelan, the honor is mine," she assured him, standing to shake the man's hand. "Jeod told me a bit about your reading, and I must admit, if any man can travel with an arm for months on end and still have an interest in such things…" She shook her head as if hardly daring to believe the idea. "He has my respect." Saelan shot a glance at Jeod, as if silently asking what else had been said about him, before turning his attention to the book.

"That's it then, is it ma'am?" he asked her, gesturing toward it. "If I may?" Nasuada nodded, relinquishing the book into the man's hands. He turned it over curiously, tapping one finger on the cover. "They weren't wrong," the reader muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. "This is…you have yourself an oddity here, ma'am." He spoke the last words louder, looking up at the Varden's leader again. "It is a book, that much is clear, but the entirety of it just bewilders me. The cover's far to hard, the writing it too…neat." He shrugged. "I doubt you looking for an opinion, but it almost makes me reluctant to read the thing. Almost," he quickly added, his crooked grin appearing once more at Nasuada's face.

"You will read it, then?" she asked, returning to the seat she had just vacated. As he nodded in the affirmative, the young woman leaned back, then straightened again, glancing around. "Where is Elva?" The question hung for a moment as the rest of those in the room realized the young girl was absent. It was strange, to say the least. Most people were under the assumption now that Elva never left Nasuada's side.

"I heard, ma'am…" one of soldiers in the Nighthawks began rather timidly. "I heard that she has taken to exploring the camp. Now that she's unaffected by her…gift, she's been near impossible to keep in one place for long." Nasuada looked at the young man curiously.

"How did you hear that?"

"Please, ma'am…" He paused, as if embarrassed to continue. "Some of the kitchen staff were discussing the girl this morning." He was suddenly clapped on the back by one of the dwarves who promptly doubled over with laughter.

"What do you do, Sarlis, sit on the floor hoping they'll drop scraps?" The solider grinned, lightly shoving the dwarf with one hand which didn't accomplish anything. Jeod, still standing rather awkwardly beside the entrance, raised on eyebrow at the guard. They knew each other much better than the Nighthawks outside, but surely they should be taking their job more seriously? His question was answered, however, when the crunching sound of footsteps on sand alerted the party to someone walking toward the entrance. Six sets of eyes snapped to the tent flap, a few hands going automatically to the hilts of swords. Not one of the guards relaxed, even when the newcomer proved to be one of the maids bringing lunch. She bowed a few times before backing out, seemingly unaware of the multitude of eyes watching her. After a rather awkward silence, Nasuada clapped her hands, causing almost everyone to jump.

"Alright, well, I've canceled any other meetings for today, the commanders already know to only come for emergencies…" She grinned at Saelan briefly. "At your leave then, sir."

No one had been exaggerating when speaking of the man's voice. As he opened the book and began, Jeod forgot any ideas of leaving. He was content to stand by the entrance and listen to the story, however odd it was.

"_Basta? Yes, Dustfinger knew him. A little better than he would have liked, actually. One hand touching the scars on his face, the fire-breather nearly winced as he remembered their origin. Basta normally didn't set a foot outside of his door without Capricorn's assent. He lived to serve him, the man with the colorless gaze. It was a well known fact that Basta was far from impulsive. He lived in constant fear of bad luck and had recently taken to wearing a rabbit's foot around his neck. Dustfinger knew, too, how much the man feared fire. He had used it to his advantage many a time. Few knew of the paranoia, and those who had heard of it hardly believed the story. How could Basta, Capricorn's right-hand man, fear the flames that his master so loved to set loose? Capricorn, who would gladly set an entire forest aflame to get a few coins that someone had withheld from him. Not many had seen him, and Capricorn preferred it that way. Basta's name was known, however, by everyone who lived within a two hundred mile radius of the city. He was almost as well known as his master and just as feared."_

Saelan was nearly twenty pages in; the sun was brushing the tops of the distant mountains as it set and dusk set in. No one in the tent moved and the only sound was the reader's voice. The silenced was oppressive when he suddenly cut off, and a few shook their heads as if coming out of a trance. For a moment, there was a rather baffled silence before one of the guards broke it with a gasp. Jeod turned to follow his gaze, starting visibly at the sight; three men stood among the Nighthawks as if they had appeared out of thin air. Both of the elves had vanished, along with one of Nasuada's attendants. The strangers stood gaping for a moment, eyes wide with a mixture of shock, anger, and, in one, fear. They were quite obviously not from anywhere around the Empire; indeed, Jeod hadn't seen a single traveler wear anything like they did. One of the men quickly regained his wits, his expression changing to one of cold observation. His hand moved casually to his belt, which clearly concealed a blade of some sort. The man's eyes, nearly colorless and as piercing as ice, scanned the room as if evaluating his situation.

One of them stood slightly apart from the others, making no move to join them, as if they were far from companions. His eyes were darting from side to side, pausing slightly at the entrance where two guards stood on either side. His hair, a light, dusty brown, stuck up in all directions as if he had recently been through a strong wind. Out of the three, he seemed least composed. Indeed, his posture and expression almost looked terrified and angry at the same time. Like the first, however, he seemed unsure as of what he was supposed to be doing.

The third stranger was far more decisive. Jeod had only a second to look at him, noting that he alone wore long sleeves, before his entire stance changed. A cold glint entered his eyes, which had swept over the people in the tent as if trying to discern who each was. His knife flashed as it was drawn and Jeod felt himself being pulled to the ground as Fallaswaeth instinctively protected whoever was closest. Breath knocked from his lungs and a heavy pounding in his head, he attempted to look up; the scholar could only hear shouts, a few strangled cries, and one voice screaming "My lady!" Managing to shift his head despite the sharp protest, he peered through dust, shadowy figures and, inexplicably, smoke. The attacker stood halfway through a tear in the canvas, his knife still drawn and now slightly bloody.

"Capricorn!" he called, staring at the tall man with cold eyes. "Capricorn, hurry!" His face was now fairly unsettled as his call was met with a blank look. "Come, we must go!" After another moment, he spun around and fled into the dusty camp. Two dwarves and an Urgal followed at a sprint, but the rest of the guard and guests crowded around the tall chair at the end of the room. The man apparently called Capricorn stood to one side, his face still painted with cold indifference. The other man, however, seemed to have vanished with much less notice than the one who had torn a hole in the tent. Pushing himself to his feet, slightly disgruntled that Fallaswaeth had joined them without offering any assistance, he crossed the gap, curious as to what was drawing so much attention and muttering. Craning his neck to see over the shoulder of an elf - the only elf, which struck him as odd - Jeod's still pounding head could barely register what he saw. A still form lay at the foot of the chair, dark hair fanned out over their face. An Urgal bent down to brush it away, surprisingly gentle for one so large, and Jeod's blood ran cold. Nasuada lay facing the canvas roof, her eyes empty and her throat slit. There was none of the 'they could be sleeping' nonsense. The Varden's leader was very obviously dead.

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**Well, would ya look at that. Surprised? Enraged? Ecstatic? Let me know! Reviews are adored!**

**The excerpt from Inkheart was basically pulled out of my ear. Considering they never read much of it in the actual books, I didn't have anything to go off of…that and the fact that my copies are currently being borrowed. Sorry if it wasn't consistent and made no sense. It was just needed.**

**It's another short chapter, and I apologize! I hate adding unnecessary fluff, so...-shrug-  
**

**As stated in chapter 3, Liz thought up Nasuada's death in the middle of the night and I jumped on it. She's brilliant with things like that! Hooray for her!**

**Chapter 5 might be a while…considering I don't have much of a clue as to what's going to happen now. Ideas would be excellent! Thank you, to all of my amazing readers. Seeing review and favorite alerts in my email is one of the best feelings ever. :3 Till next time!**


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